Of Orphanages and the Children who Live in Them
by writingscientist
Summary: All children have a story to tell.


_"Orphanages and the Children who Live in Them" is a series that covers the backstories of the Wammy Boys. I know this has been done to death, but I wanted to take a crack at it. "Survivor" is Near's._

* * *

Sometimes Jim Larson hated his job.

This was a rare occurrence, to be sure; a London police officer was all he had wanted to be since he had reached that pivotal moment in early adulthood when one must face the reality that adolescence has ended and that the decision of finding a career must be made.

"Cop" was an admittedly stressful job, but it brought with it a sense of wonder and fulfillment that Jim wouldn't have traded for anything in the world. Busting bad guys, helping people in need, and generally making the city he so loved a better place to live. It wasn't all high speed chases and shootouts, like the TV seemed so fond of showing, but Jim didn't care. He was doing good things regardless and that was enough. He even liked the desk work, since he knew that it was all those boring forms that were keeping the criminals in their cells. Jim was a servant of justice in everything he did and that was all that mattered.

But now, looking upon the grisly scene before him, he didn't feel like a bringer of peace, he felt more like a member of a clean up crew.

"Damn. I've never seen one this bad."

Jim glanced at the man sitting next to him in the cop car's passenger seat and nodded. Fred Summerfield was a rookie, barley out of the Academy and he had the overly cocky and enthusiastic attitude to prove it. He had recently been assigned to Jim, the veteran, to break him of that habit before it got him killed.

Still, the older man liked Fred. The kid wasn't nearly as bad as some of the others he had encountered in his nearly 40 years on the force, he just needed a little grounding and only experience could do that. _If anything, seeing something like this might help that process along,_ Jim mussed to himself. He gestured to his companion and got out of the car.

The cold of the November night air hit them hard and Jim was grateful for the warmth of his jacket. A few of the other officers, who had arrived there earlier, had already begun generally attempting to make order out of chaos. Jim headed in with Fred on his heels. Sergeant John Lexus looked up for a moment from his clipboard to acknowledge them, before gesturing over to where Officer Bill Crass was moving traffic. Jim held up his hand in thanks and hurried over.

Bill waved a Sedan through and turned to the pair. "Hey, boys. You two just get here?" Fred nodded. Bill let another vehicle in, saw that it was the last one for a good while, and relaxed a little.

He lit a cigarette and looked at the mess in front of them.

"Shit." He said.

"Shit" about summed it up. A three car crash, all of them completely totaled. Two ambulances were arriving and emergency medical workers were going to start swarming around like ants at any moment. Jim had been an officer long enough to know that their efforts were probably in vain; this was as bad a crash as he'd ever seen one.

"What's the scoop, sir?"

Leave it to the rookie to ask it like that.

Bill took a drag from his cigarette. "Not quite sure yet. As far as Lexus can tell, though, the guy driving the muscle car was drunk off his arse. There were empty beer bottles all over the seats. He wasn't looking where he was going, hit that Jeep in the next lane over, and the Volvo over there slid right into them" He pointed. "Several of the passengers in all three cars were dead before we got here. You might what to go check the Volvo now that traffic has thinned a little, though. We need a body count."

Jim thought that sounded more like a job for one of the medical workers, but they might be too busy loading people up into the ambulances. And, hey, if it helped, he'd do it.

The poor car was trashed, but not nearly as bad as the other two. It looked like a family vehicle, judging by the year and model. The front window was broke and offered the old police officer a good, if somewhat morbid, view. The two front passengers were dead. Both appeared to be in their late twenties and were most likely a married couple. Jim felt a small pang in his chest. _So young._

He glanced back at Fred, who was looking a bit pale, no doubt seeing himself in the youthful couple. Jim made a small gesture for him to go check out the Jeep. An extra pair of eyes was always needed, after all. The newbie hurried over and Jim turned, planning to go help with traffic, but something in the back seat caught his eye. The side door had been badly damaged, but he still was able to open it with little trouble.

Jim peered in and felt his old heart give a sudden lurch. A baby was slumped unconscious in his car seat, his head resting against his chest and small trickles of blood were trailing down his brow. Jim's eyes flashed slightly in anger at his associates. _How could they have missed…. _

Then Jim realized that the way that the child was angled, it would have been impossible to have seen him from the font of the car at all. Quickly, he put a hand near the child's mouth and waited. After a moment, he felt an almost imperceptible amount of heat flutter against it. The baby was breathing! He was alive! Jim felt his hands shake slightly as he unbuckled the toddler from his seat and lifted him into his arms. He really was a tiny little thing, probably no more than two years old, dressed in a soft, blue onesie. Jim felt his insides warm a little. He had a grandson about this age, though little Alex wasn't nearly as striking to look at this boy. His face was so pale and his curly hair was a starling white, like newly fallen snow; in one hand he clutched the arm of a stuffed rabbit, while the other held a half finished rubik's cube. Somewhere in the back of Jim's mind, he wondered why a baby had a complicated puzzle like that for a toy, but right now he had other things to worry about.

"Medic!" He hollered and one of the medical team members ran over. She took one look at the knocked out child and gestured for them to follow her to the ambulance. There were no other patients in the vehicle and Jim's suspicions were confirmed: nobody else had made it through the accident. He set the child down, took his toys, and let the team get to work on him. They'd do their job and now he needed to do his. He hopped out of the truck and ran over to where Lexus was still working.

"Sergeant." He looked up. "There was a child still alive in the Volvo." Jim said. "He's been moved to the ambulance." Lexus's eyes widened. "What's the status on him?" Jim shook his head. "I don't know. He didn't look very hurt, but he could have had some internal injures that I wouldn't have known about." Lexus nodded solemnly. "His parents were probably the couple in the front. We haven't been able to identify them yet, but it's obvious they died on impact. Poor souls."

Lexus wasn't the type to show emotions easily, so this crash must have hit him as hard as the rest of the team if he was feeling sad. Jim opened his mouth to ask where he was needed next, when the girl from the ambulance hurried over. "Officer. The kid you found is in need of medical attention at the hospital, but his injuries as far as we can tell are pretty minor. It very likely he'll pull through." Jim felt relived. _Thank goodness. One life that was spared in this mess._ "However," she continued. "We need an adult to stay close by for when he wakes up. Since you were the one who found him would it be alright if you escort him to the hospital?"

Jim looked at Lexus who shooed him. "Go on, Larson. There's not much left to do here. The bodies are accounted for and tow trucks are on their way." Lexus gave him a rare smile. "You'd be doing a better job if you help that kid." Jim nodded. "What about Summerfield?" he asked, gabbing his thumb to where Fred was assisting Bill with traffic. "Don't worry. We'll send you the rookie when we're done with clean up." Jim gave him a quick salute and followed the young medic.

Jim, as a general rule, did not like hospitals. They were so depressing and grim and the smell that they had stayed on you for days, even after you left. But at the moment, looking down at the now sleeping baby boy, he was grateful to hospitals big and small, bad juju aside. Despite having just lived through an enormous car wreck, the child looked no worse for wear. The only sign at all a large bandage covering his forehead.

A nurse walked in and gave Jim a soft smile. Her name tag said Mary Sulivan. "Well, Officer Larson, we finished the tests and it looks like this kid is going to be just fine. There were some cuts at his hairline that might scar a little and he had a small amount of head trauma, but he should be alright in a day or so." She looked at the boy and her doe brown eyes shown with warmth. Jim idly wondered if she was a mother and had children of her own.

"It's a miracle he came through at all." He said. "Much less with so few injuries." She nodded. "Yes. It is indeed." Sadness clouded her features and Jim realized how young she really was, probably barely out of medical school and still coming to terms with her job as a healer. But the morbid expression vanished moments later.

"You know, you don't have to stay in here. The boy's stable, so you're free to come and go as you please." Jim quietly thanked her and went to go find a pay phone. He needed to call his wife, who would want to know the situation. She picked up on the first ring, just like she always did.

"Hello?"

She sounded sleepy. Jim winced, feeling guilty about having most likely woken her up. A bank teller needed rest as much as the next person, after all.

"Hey, love. It's me."

"Jim? What's going on? Carl called to say that a bunch of officers had been sent to help out with a big car crash. You aren't still there, are you?"

Jim winced again. Carl Fitzgerald was one of his oldest friends on the force. The man had been a good cop in his younger years: smart, brave, and, above all, enthusiastic. He had never missed an opportunity to be a part of the action. But, due to a recently developed heart condition, the poor guy was now mostly confined to desk work. So, to fill his newly "boring" hours, he had turned to talking. Well, gossiping was more like it and he did it in a way that would have made any fishwife proud. Now all of the officer's spouses knew everything at all times, even before the press did.

"Yeah. It was pretty bad. Three car pile up. Huge, bloody mess."

Cindy had made it very clear early on in their marriage that he was to keep nothing about his job from her, unless ordered to by a superior. It would help him deal with trauma if he talked about it and it would allow them stay close if he shared. Gory details and everything. She was a strong woman; she could handle it.

"There was only one person who made it, as far as my knowledge goes. He's at the hospital, which is where I am now. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Jim paused and rubbed the nape of his neck, unsure of how to proceed. "He's just a little kid, Cindy. Toddler really. If he older than Alex, I'll eat my hat. It's amazing he's alright. I'm not sure, since we haven't gotten an I.D. on them yet, but there were two adults in the front seats who I'm guessing were his parents."

"So now the kid has nobody and you're wanting to put on your good cop face and help him out, right?"

Jim grunted sheepishly. She knew him so well.

"Maybe.."

She didn't laugh, but Jim could hear the mirth in her voice. "Then go for it. Poor baby, losing his parents so young. He'll need to heal up, correct? So go ahead and stay the night. I'll bring you some clothes and anything else you might need in the morning."

Good old Cindy. She always went well out of her way to make his life easier. What more could a man ask for in a wife? They exchanged goodbyes and "I love you"s and Jim hung up the phone, feeling better already. Cindy tended to have that affect on him. He headed back to the boy's room and, after taking a good look to make sure he was still breathing and feeling embarrassed for it afterward (this was a fully staffed hospital after all), fell asleep on the room's only relatively comfortable couch.

Jim awoke to somebody shaking his shoulder. The old man blinked and saw Fred Summerfield staring down at him, a stack of papers in one hand and a coffee in the other, his expression as puppy dog-like as ever. "Evening, boss. Well, technically it's morning, but still. I got some info here for ya." Jim cast a glance at the clock on the wall to confirm his companion's words and, sure enough 4 AM greeted him, though a little less cheerily than Fred. The elder cop sat up and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Hey, Summerfield. Have you been up all night?" A nod. "Yep. Helped out with traffic after the mess was cleaned up. Next went down the station and did paper work. Then went to the coroner's to get some I.D.s on the victims." He waved the papers for emphasis. Bless the young and their indomitable enthusiasm.

"What do we got?" "Well the guy in the sports car _did_ cause the accident like Lexus thought. One Anderson Pollis. Aged twenty. Rich kid. Just got thrown out of college. For the third time." Fred added. _And probably drinking to lessen the pain of hearing Daddy's lecture._ Jim thought bitterly. _Damn kids. They always think they're so indestructible and end up not only being proven fatally wrong, but taking some innocents with them._ The old cop shook his head sadly, but motioned for Fred to continue.

"The Jeep's victim was a Corey Saunders. Aged thirty-five. Bachelor. Installed power lines apparently." Another good man lost. Jim waved his hand again. He felt bad for this Mr. Saunders, but he needed the details on the pair who might have been the parents of the kid he was now watching over.

"Oh, right. The two in the Volvo were a married couple. Joseph and Emma River. He was twenty-nine and an engineer. She was twenty-seven and a writer. That boy is their son." Fred glanced over at the bed where said child still lay fast asleep. "Nate River. Two years old."

Jim nodded. It was nice to have a bit of closure, to know at least a little of the lives of those lost souls. Besides, now he had something to call the kid. Nate. Nate River. A good name, if anything.

"What are you gonna do now, boss?"

Jim bit his lip, an old habit of his for whenever he was thinking hard.

"I don't know yet."

There were a number of orphanages in and near London. That much was obvious. This was England, after all, birth land of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys alike. But that still didn't make Jim feel any better about it. He doubted that any of these places were as bad as popular culture or famous American Broadway musicals liked to portray, but for this tiny, defenseless child to grow up with nobody to hug him or tell him he was special…

The thought made the old cop very sad.

Well, he had time to figure it out. It was still the early hours of the morning and this kid wasn't going anywhere until at least later today. The only thing to do now was to wait and see if he could make a plan.

Jim thanked Fred for his trouble and sent him on his way back to the station, with a message for Lexus that Jim was going to perform a civic duty and stay here for another 24 hours at least to keep an eye on the boy. The old police officer had known Lexus for a long time and knew without a doubt that he would be doing exactly the same thing if he were in Jim's position. Despite his seemingly emotionless exterior, Lexus was a family man at heart. Jim had watched his colleague's three kids grow up and even met two of the grandchildren recently. He'd understand about Nate.

The hours passed rather slowly after Fred left. Jim had tried to get some sleep, he _had_ been up most of the night after all, but his thoughts kept getting in the way. No matter which way he looked at it, poor little Nate's only option was to be sent to an orphanage. There was always the possibility that he would get adopted by a nice family, since babies and toddlers were the easiest to find homes for, but there was no guarantee. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about any of this. Children became orphans all the time. He was a cop, he knew that. But Jim was anything if not a moral man and somehow it just didn't seem fair that this kid had to lose everything he knew so young.

He knew that _he_ couldn't take care of the kid; he and his wife were far too old to have a toddler running around. And asking his daughter, Jessica, and her husband was out of the question. They already had little Alex and a second child, one who was the same age, would only make their life hard. He was turning over the idea of asking his son, David, who was happily married and thinking about children, if he might have any interest in taking Nate in, when his wife arrived.

She looked as beautiful as ever, even at eight in the morning. Despite his jumbled thoughts, Jim couldn't help but smile. As promised, she had brought him a change of clothes. She also brought a book to help stave off boredom and a car seat that she had borrowed from a neighbor, just in case he needed to drive Nate somewhere. And just as he knew she would, she fussed over the boy immensely.

"Aww, Jimmy, he's so _precious_. What a beautiful child! That hair in itself is something extraordinary. I've never seen a baby with such white hair before. And his little face is just too adorable!"

Cindy, it seemed, had gone into grandma mode, but that just made Jim smile some more. Even if the child was still asleep, it was nice he had somebody to give him some attention. After she had had her fill of cuteness, his wife's expression became more serious.

"So what will happen to him? Does any one have a plan yet?"

He shook his head.

"No, honey. I've been thinking for hours about what to do, but I still got nothing."

Jim looked directly into his wife's eyes.

"I don't want to send him to an orphanage, but I'm not sure what else to do."

Cindy nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry, love. I wish there was something I could do."

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. Jim felt better and just relaxed in her familiar embrace.

After a few moments, she let go and gathered up her purse.

"Alright. I got to go or I'll be late."

Selfless woman or not, she still had to be at the bank for work in a little while. He escorted her out to the hospital's front entrance, thanked her for everything, and gave her a warm kiss goodbye. Jim watched her go and thought about how lucky he was. Then he thought about how unlucky Mr. and Mrs. River had been and his thoughts went right back to where they had started. Sighing and still considering calling his son, he headed back up to Nate's room.

To his surprise, the boy was awake and looking around at his surroundings. He didn't look frightened, as Jim would have expected, just sort of curious. Still, the poor thing must be hungry. He pressed the room's little button to call the nurse. It was the same one from that night, the kind-eyed young woman. Mary. That was her name. She must have just started the late shift when he had arrived and would still be working this morning. She gave him another smile and an even bigger one to Nate.

"Good morning, little one. I'm glad to see your okay." She cooed at him. Nate just stared at her. He had the strangest eyes, now that Jim could see them. They were enormous, even for a tiny child, and an odd black color, like the sky at midnight. There was also a very eerie awareness to them. It was almost adult-like and it gave Nate an expression of finding everything only mildly interesting. Mary must have noticed this, too, because she restricted her baby talk immediately. Despite the creepiness, though, they _were _beautiful, those eyes.

Mary checked the boy's pulse and temperature, then changed the bandages on his forehead. Nate, for his part, sat patiently and only seemed slightly irritated by the endeavors. After having checked that everything was in order, Mary declared that child was fine and could leave at the end of the day. That gave Jim a weird mixture of both happiness and worry. It was great that he was okay, but what now? Jim was completely out of ideas. The old cop sighed. Looked like the poor thing was headed to an orphanage after all. _Damn it_. The young nurse hurried out for a few minutes and brought back a small bowl of oatmeal and a sippy-cup of milk. She fed Nate, or as it looked from Jim's perspective, Nate _let_ her feed him. What a weird kid.

Afterwards, she stretched and asked Jim if there was anything she could do for him. Jim shook his head and Mary headed out, obviously needed elsewhere. Jim sat down on the couch and bit his lip again, thinking hard, and only with one very unusual little boy for company. Jim sat and stared at the wall and Nate sat and stared at him, those huge eyes fixed and unblinking.

After a while, though, he must have gotten bored because he made a small squeaking sound, like that of a little mouse. Jim looked at him and that seemed to have been Nate's goal because he pointed to the chair where Jim had placed his toys from the night before. He said nothing, of course, but his expression definitely implied something along the lines of "Well, obviously _I _can't get out of bed, so you'll need to get them for me." Jim obligingly got up and handed both the bunny and the rubik's cube to the toddler. Nate inspected them one at a time, as if to make sure that no harm had come to them during their time on the chair, found no damage, and hugged both to his bitty chest.

Jim smiled a little. It had been far too long since he had been able to watch the wonder that is a happy child. He made a mental note to invite Jessica and her family over soon; he needed to spend more time with his grandson. Little Alex was talking a bit now: his daughter had called the moment he said his first word. Maybe he would be able to say grandpa and grandma when he next saw them. Babies were smart; you just had to show them what you wanted them to do. Jim basked in those comforting thoughts for a few minutes, thinking of how happy Cindy would be if she could officially be called grandma by her grandson, when a small sound startled him from him musings.

Nate was sitting up against his pillows, an expression of pride on his face, as he held out the now completed rubik's cube to the old police officer. Jim blinked. And he stared. And he blinked again. _How in the hell…._ There had to be a trick somewhere. No two year old could understand the complex patterns it took to finish a rubik's cube. And certainly not in ten minutes! Maybe it was some new kid's toy that was designed to look like a real puzzle, but was a lot easier to use. Like toy phones or stoves. That had to be it.

Jim took the offered object and examined it. It _looked_ like an ordinary rubik's cube; matching colored squares making up the each of the sides. Jim tossed it between two hands, testing its weight. It _felt_ like an ordinary rubik's cube; most kid's toys shouldn't be this heavy, anyway. He thought he must look ridiculous, and he probably did, if the slightly confused look on Nate's face was anything to go by. Still, there was no way that a tiny kid like him had completed this thing all by himself! There must be something to it! Only one way to find out.

Jim began twisting the sides at random, doing his best to make sure that none of the squares were even close to ones with similar shades. After a minute or so, it looked as good as he could get it, so he began to try and put it back together again. He had never been one for puzzles, so it took him a good fifteen minutes; all the while Nate was looking at him with what might have been a smirk if it had been on the face of someone older. Amused toddlers aside, one thing had been proven: this was a true rubik's cube; no children's toy could be this difficult. So how in the world did _Nate_ manage to finish it?! Another experiment was needed.

With only a small pang of regret in his chest, Jim destroyed his labored over work and reduced the cube back to its mismatched state. Then he handed it to Nate, who gave him a look that seemed to say "Let me show you how it's done" and began fixing it. This time, Jim paid close attention to the boy's work, not wanting to miss the trick. The child's huge eyes narrowed in concentration and tiny hands turned the cube this way and that in a rhythmic pattern. After only a few minutes, the puzzle was it's color-coordinated self again and Nate was presenting it to Jim with what the old man now _knew_ was a smirk on his face.

_No way. No bloody way._ Jim took the toy back and, now feeling both awed and somehow irritated, messed it up again before handing back to Nate. The boy just stuck out his lower lip in what could only be described as a pout (and a pretty adorable one at that). But he completed the puzzle all the same, and in a shorter amount of time no less. When he was done, he didn't offer Jim the cube; instead he held it close to himself, as if afraid the old cop would change it again. Jim held up his hands in a way that he hoped would convey peace and pushed the button to call Mary back in.

She looked tired, which didn't surprise Jim; her shift must be close to over by now. "Hello, Officer Larson," she said with her characteristic smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, for starters, would you take that rubik's cube away from Nate for me please?"

Mary blinked at the odd request, but took the toy none the less. Nate, it seemed, at not yet learned that Mary was on the same side as Jim and trusted her enough to offer up his work. That trust was shattered moments later when Mary, under Jim's orders, messed up the cube. He glared at her, but didn't hesitate either to take the toy when she handed it back to him.

"Now watch him. Closely." Jim instructed. Mary did as she was told and her eyes slowly began to widen in shock as the bitty child pieced the puzzle back together. When he was done, he huffed slightly, as if exasperated, and leveled the both of them a look that clearly said "Are we done now?" When neither of them tried to take the toy again, he set it aside and started playing with his bunny. Mary looked at Jim.

"How did he do that?" she whispered.

Jim sighed softly.

"I don't know."

Mary frowned slightly.

"You do realize that you might have a potential genius on your hands now, don't you?"

Jim stuck said hands in the pocket of his jeans. "Yeah. Kinda picked up on that. And I don't know what to do about it." He bit his lip, feeling anxious. "You can't send a kid like this to an ordinary orphanage. He needs the care of an expert and I don't have any idea where somebody like that would be!"

Jim turned slightly pink, embarrassed. Raising his voice had been unprofessional. He was police officer; he should know better. But Mary didn't seem bothered by his outburst; an odd look had taken residence on her face instead. "Wait here a minute." She said and hurried out.

So Jim waited there, as patient as he could be. His patience didn't have to last for long, though, because a few minutes later she returned carrying two cards. One read "Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children", while the other read "Wammy's House for Orphaned Children". Each had a separate address and phone number as well. Jim blinked. Two orphanages with the same name? He looked at Mary and she began explaining.

"An older cousin of mine, Melissa, works as a child care provider. For many years she was employed at an orphanage in Winchester known as Wammy's House. The founder and operator, Quillish Wammy, is apparently this really rich, but also really kind, man who established orphanages all over the world."

Mary paused and Jim could see the admiration in her eyes.

"Even if the child hadn't turned out to be so special, I would have suggested sending him to one of Wammy's orphanages. Melissa says that they're well kept and the children usually turn out to be wonderful people."

Jim nodded. _Wish I had heard about these places sooner, would have saved me a lot of worry. _

"But why are there two Wammy's Houses and what does this have to do with Nate?" He asked.

"Well, up until a few years ago, there was only one Wammy's House, which was where Melissa worked. It would take in any child that needed a home. But a while back, Mr. Wammy made this big announcement that he was having a second orphanage built on the other side of Winchester, to be called Wammy's House as well. This one would take in all kids who needed homes, regardless of who they were. The original Wammy's House would now become a very selective institution and only allow in children who were potential geniuses."

Jim stared.

"So, it's essentially a school for gifted kids?"

Mary nodded.

"Yes. Apparently orphans from all over the world are admitted."

"What about all the other kids already there who _weren't_ smart enough?"

Mary shrugged.

"They were moved to this new facility. Most of the staff moved, too. It's actually where Melissa is working now."

Some of Jim's surprise must have shown on his face because Mary laughed.

"Oh, don't worry, Officer Larson. It's not like they were just shoved off to some awful hellhole. Melissa says that this new place is even better than the old one and all the kids seem happy with the arrangement."

Jim still felt skeptical.

"But what was the point? Why gather all the world's genius orphans into one place?"

Mary just shook her head.

"That I don't know. Melissa and the others weren't told much about it, but apparently they have some kind of program to help all these kids reach their highest potential. Also, once a child is accepted in, they aren't allowed to be adopted. They stay there until they reach adulthood."

Jim bit his lip again. It just seemed weird. He knew that smart children usually were pretty special, he had been to enough student awards ceremonies when his kids where growing up to know that. But couldn't these geniuses stay in their original orphanages and just have tutors or something? At least then they wouldn't have to travel across the globe. And for a child to never be adopted? That just seemed stupid; wasn't the point of an orphanage to find kids new homes? True, not every child wound up getting a new family, that had been his biggest fear for Nate after all, but at least they knew that they _could_. Still, there wasn't much he could do about the situation.

"So, my options are to send Nate to the 'normal' orphanage and _hope_ he gets adopted or to contact the genius one to see if they'll take him?" he asked.

Mary shrugged her thin shoulders.

"That's about it, though I would try the one for gifted children first. Even if you don't tell them about Nate's intelligence, you know that they'll discover it on their own and there's a pretty good chance that he'll be sent there anyway."

_So basically save them a trip. Lovely._ Oh, well. She was probably right. If they were as serious about finding talented kids as she said, then there was no doubt that Nate would wind up there eventually. Speaking of Nate, Jim turned at looked at him. The child had been watching the whole exchange, idly playing with his bunny. The old cop went and sat on the edge of the bed. The toddler looked startled, but waited patiently for him to do something. Jim smiled.

"Well, little one, what do _you_ say to all of this?"

Nate said nothing, Jim hadn't really expected him to anyway, but turned to his rubik's cube and began to complete it again. When finished, he held it up for inspection. A good answer as any.

"All right," Jim said. "I'll give the genius place a call."

Jim wasn't really sure what to expect when he dialed the phone number to Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children, but it certainly hadn't been the kind voice of an elderly gentleman.

"Good day. How might I help you, sir?"

Jim fidgeted with the pay phone's cord, feeling somehow nervous.

"Hi. My name is Jim Larson. I'm a police officer here in London. Last night there was a large car crash that claimed quite a few lives. There was one person who made it, though, little boy named Nate River."

"And you are looking for a place for this newly orphaned child to stay, am I correct?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, sir, I am."

"Hm. And how old is this child?"

Jim frowned. What did that have to do with anything?

"Two." He said.

The man at the other end sighed slightly, as if he got these types of calls all the time.

"Well, sir, this orphanage is very, shall we say, "choosy", in whom we let in. Only kids with certain intelligence levels are admitted and that sort of thing would be hard to gauge for someone as young as this boy. I'm sorry. But we have a sister facility, as well, that would be more than happy to take him."

Jim gritted his teeth. If there was one thing he hated, it was bureaucratic red tape.  
"Yes, I know all about your little set up. But you've got to believe me, this kid _is_ a genius." He explained about the rubik's cube and the strange knowing in the boy's eyes. Those, at least, got the other man's attention.

"Really, he completed the whole puzzle in five minutes?"

The old cop couldn't help but smile smugly.

"Yep."

"And with no help whatsoever from you or anyone else?"

The smile became a smirk.

"Yes, sir, indeed."

A silence ensued. Jim could tell that the man must be thinking.

"Well, this is a little unorthodox, but I suppose it won't hurt if we take a look at this child." He did his best to sound neutral, but Jim could hear the interest in his voice.

"Can you get here today?"

Jim said "yes" and they agreed on a time. As he hung up the phone, the old cop grinned. Things were finally looking up.

It wasn't until late afternoon that the hospital released Nate. The doctors had made one last fuss to check that everything was in order, but Jim couldn't say he blamed them. Little kids injuries were tricky after all. Still, the appointment was fast approaching and he had over an hour drive to Winchester to get there. They had to hurry. Jim walked out of the hospital into the cold November air, Nate snuggled close to his chest. Mary had done him one last favor and found a little coat for the child and good thing, too, because snow had begun to fall softly around them. Thankfully, it wasn't far to the cop car that Fred had been kind enough to drop off earlier.

Jim took out the car seat, strapped the little one in, and headed out; his mind buzzing with anxiety for the upcoming meeting. It wasn't so much that he didn't think that Nate would pass their little test. The child was brilliant; nobody could deny that. No, that was not the issue. Jim cast a glance over at his charge, who had fallen fast asleep, his beloved toys held close. The old cop smiled sadly. It was more that the poor boy would never have somebody to love him. All people needed someone to care about them, genius or not.

The ride seemed to take longer than it should have. By the time they reached Winchester, Jim was a nervous wreck. Still, he couldn't help but feel awed as he pulled up to the iron gate of the beautiful, stately mansion that was Wammy's House. This Mr. Wammy sure lived up to his reputation of creating something special for these kids. He typed in the pass code he'd been given, and drove in.

The man who had been the phone was called Roger and he was about what Jim had expected: a little older than himself, thin, and bespectacled. He led Jim, with Nate in tow, into the House with a tired, but dignified, air. The House itself was as lovely inside as it was outside; wooden floors, old-fashioned designs, and decorated in soft furniture. Cindy would have loved it. Yet, Wammy's House didn't have the unpleasant, cold feeling that places like this usually took on. On the contrary, the House was warm, well lit, and filled with toys of all different shapes and sizes. Nate, who had woken up when they arrived, was peering down from Jim's arms at all the toys, his eyes sparkling. Jim smiled a little. This was indeed a home for children.

Roger opened the door to what must have been his office, judging by the large desk, and gestured for Jim to take seat in one of the available chairs. Jim sat and watched as Roger brought out a small box that had a number of puzzles in it. He placed it in front of his desk and the held out his arms for Nate. Confused, Jim handed the boy over. Rodger set the child down on the floor in front of the box and took out a rubik's cube for him. Nate didn't smile, but something about his expression told Jim he was pleased. He set out immediately to put it in order, while Roger, armed with a stopwatch, timed him.

He finished more quickly than Jim ever had seen him and handed Roger the toy. Roger nodded, took the cube, and brought out another puzzle, this one more complicated. Nate looked it over, turned a few of the sides experimentally, and began to fix it, too. It took him ten minutes. Roger, who was now smiling, took out a final puzzle, one so complicated Jim wondered if he himself could do it, and handed it over. Nate just gave him a look of determination and puzzled it out in fifteen minutes. He held it up for the man to see, triumph written all over his face. Rodger's smile became a grin and he took the toy.

"Well, Officer Larson, I must say this boy might be young but I have never seen such potential. He would be an excellent addition to this program."

Jim nodded, having expected nothing less.

"I just have one question first." Roger nodded too and Jim looked him directly in the eye.

"What is the point of having all of this? Why only nurture their intelligences and not any aspect of their personalities? Isn't it better for them to find loving families who will see them actually as children, not just as geniuses?"

Roger sighed and sat down in the chair behind his desk.

"Tell me Officer Larson, do you consider yourself a brilliant man?" he asked.

Jim shook his head. He was smart enough, but, no, not brilliant.

"Alright. Do you know anyone who you _would_ consider brilliant?"

Again a shake of the head.

"Then you have no idea what it is like to actually live life being a genius."

Jim blinked. That was a strange answer.

"Are you a genius?" the old police officer asked. It was Roger's turn to shake his head.

"No. But the man who founded this institution, Quillish Wammy, he is. He and I have been friends for over thirty years and he has occasionally confided in me about how tough it is to be so smart that you are isolated. People don't understand you because they aren't thinking on the same level you are."

Roger smiled. "Still, he never let it bother him and did his best to help those in need. He invented all different kinds of things and used that money to fund charities and to establish international orphanages. But he still remembers how hard it was to be a kid and not feel welcome because your intelligence made you different. This is a place for children who feel that way, especially the ones who will be even smarter than he is someday, like Mr. River over there." Rodger nodded to Nate.

"They are not judged here, as they might be on the outside. We challenge them, yes, but that is what they want: a chance to do something with their wonderful minds and prove themselves. You say that all they need are loving families to adopt them and care for them. Well, these kids will still feel out of place with those families because they will still be smarter than they are. _We_ are their family because we understand them completely and know exactly what they need." Roger's expression softened. "We are not the cold, merciless people you make us out to be. The staff gives them all the love they could ever want and they get even more from the companionship they have with each other. Human beings by nature want to be with others like them. And that is what we provide here."

Jim blinked, taking in Roger's words. The old cop felt chastised, like a child who had done something wrong. The man was right, of course. He had no idea what it was like to have brains like Nate's. He had always been pretty average growing up: a good student, but also someone who wanted nothing more than to go out and play rugby with his mates. He sure wouldn't have been able to put together puzzles as a two year old. Maybe.. Maybe this _was_ a good place for Nate.

He nodded and Roger smiled. He pressed a button for the Intercom.

"Hello, Clare? Would you mind coming to my office? We have a new arrival." There was an answering "Yes" from a soft, female voice. Rodger stood up and held out his hand, which Jim shook. A moment later a young woman arrived. The old police officer gently picked up Nate off the floor and looked at him. The child looked back.

"Well, little one, I guess this is goodbye."

Then Nate did something completely unexpected. He smiled; one warm and full of happiness. He patted Jim's cheek with one tiny hand and the old cop knew that he was being thanked. Feeling content, he handed the boy over to Clare, who held him in her arms just like a mother would. Jim couldn't help but smile, too. The kid was going to be fine.

Roger led him out the way he had come. Jim headed down the front steps and paused for a moment. A few of the House's wards had come out to play in the snow; laughing and having fun like they didn't have a care in the world. They looked like ordinary kids, but Jim knew better. Sure enough, one of them had already begun making a rather realistic snow sculpture of Big Ben. Jim shook his head, chuckling. _Geniuses._

Yes, the kid would be just fine here. This was a good place and would remain so. Nate would be well loved and cared for. And even if tragedy should strike his home, the boy would make it through. Because Nate River was anything, if not a survivor.


End file.
